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By Booth Tarkington: Mary

There was a long pause and a soft, "Yes." "Then why, oh, why, won't you let me see you? I've been like a man chained in a cave." "But, Bibbs dear, you don't understand why." "Mary," he called, even more tremulous than before, "you can't mean it was because--you care. If you meant that you would let me see you, wouldn't you?" And now the voice was so low he couldn't be sure it spoke at all, and if it did, the words were, "Yes, Bibbs--dear."

But the voice was not in the instrument; it was so gentle and so light, so almost nothing, it seemed to be made of air and to fall from heaven. Slowly and incredulously he turned and looked up--and glory fell upon his shining eyes. Mary stood upon the threshold.